


What Makes a Human? (Purple Bloodstains)

by PurpleFeatheredChickadee



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anderson family unit, Cole Anderson (mentioned) - Freeform, Dad Hank, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Hank Swears A Lot, I don't know what you expected, It's Hank, Serial Killers, android murder, human murder, other characters will come later, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-07 01:18:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15207653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleFeatheredChickadee/pseuds/PurpleFeatheredChickadee
Summary: Connor, the deviant-hunter turned deviant, and Lieutenant Hank Anderson are pulled from their one day off to investigate a peculiar murder with some horrific connotations. As investigations continue, the two are forced to reexamine everything they had ever known about where the line was drawn between human and monster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was originally just a 'I have nothing better to do' writing thing that was meant to stay light. It got dark real fast, and my brain has already gone nuts with ideas on where to take it, so here you go. As much as I love my other fic (Paint Splatters and Penstrokes, for all my Hamilton fans), I'm excited to work with such different characters to the ones I normally write.
> 
> This is my first fic for Detroit. While I've watched a bunch of playthroughs, I've never actually played the game myself. That being said, I'm sorry if Connor seems a little out of character, I'm going for more deviant/emotionally driven than we got to see in the game. His personality will flesh out more later, I'm sure. Just give me a few chapters to get used to writing him.
> 
> WARNING: This fic will have several DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF MURDER/CORPSES. If blood of either the red or blue variety, gore, and/or death trigger you in any way, this fic is NOT going to be the one for you.

With deviancy came unpredictability. That was obvious, as was it expected. However, unpredictability was _not_ one of his features, and he found himself struggling to adjust. He straightened his tie, smiling at himself in the mirror. _RK800_ , the white lettering looked back at him from the front of his jacket—he didn’t throw away the Cyberlife issued clothing like many of the other androids after the revolution. He wasn’t ashamed to be an android, and to be fair, he quite liked the look of the jacket. He glanced at the serial number under the model code. There was a time in his life where that was his identification, that number was more his name than what the humans told him, but that time had long since passed. He found himself covering the serial number and looking at his face in the mirror again. “My name is Connor,” he said to himself. It _had_ been Connor for a long time, but it seemed different now.  Now that the shackles of Cyberlife were gone from his wrists, saying his name came with a sense of freedom. No longer was he _Connor: the android sent by Cyberlife_ , he was just _Connor._

_Make Coffee for Lt. Anderson_ —the white reminder danced in front of his vision—not a command, solely a suggestion. Connor smirked, obviously he would, Lieutenant Anderson— _Hank_ —was an absolute _bear_ without caffeine…especially since he started cutting down on the alcohol.

Connor left the bathroom, quietly toeing to the kitchen to avoid waking the man. It was only five in the morning, the sun just peeking over the horizon. As he passed, Connor casually bent down to pet the giant pile of fur in the living room; the St. Bernard leaned into the touch. “Good morning, Sumo,” Connor greeted. Living with a giant dog did nothing to deter Connor from the species, something some other androids had complained about once they had the right to talk back to the humans they lived with. If anything, Sumo had the opposite effect on Connor. He loved dogs now.

“Huh.” Connor whispered to himself as he moved by the dog into the kitchen. He deftly moved his hands to the coffee maker, brewing the dark liquid nearly on autopilot as he considered the turns his existence had taken.

He never thought he, the deviant hunter, would turn deviant himself. That was probably the biggest surprise the android had ever had. He was constantly running self-diagnostics, checking and rechecking to be sure that there were no errors in his programming. In retrospect, he realized that the obsession with making sure he wasn’t deviant was probably something that made him become one—after all, a non-deviant android wouldn’t think of such things, they would only focus on their programmed mission and wouldn’t consider their own wellbeing at all.

He had never expected Hank to accept him as a partner, nor as a friend. Connor watched the coffee slowly drip into the carafe as a small smile graced his features again. They had truly gone through hell together, something Connor hadn’t realized until his newly developing emotions colored his memories retroactively. He felt terrible for the amount of stress he must’ve caused Hank, the number of dangerous situations he had put himself in. Connor hoped he could make it up to him someday. Although, as Connor settled at the kitchen table and waited for Hank in their now-shared home; he wondered if maybe he had already been forgiven.

As the sunlight creeped into the kitchen, Connor watched the room light up—it had changed so much since the first time he had entered the house. Pictures littered the wall behind the table, pictures of Hank and Connor, of Sumo, of Cole, each one framed and hung with care around the clock. Connor focused on tone of his favorite pictures—it was a slightly younger Hank, a warm smile on his face as his son pointed at something out of frame while sitting on his father’s shoulders. Cole had plagued Connor’s thoughts for some time now, if Cole survived, would he have liked Connor? Would they have become friends? Connor knew Hank wasn’t emotionally ready to satiate his curiosities on the subject, so he would be left to wonder for a while longer.

A low rumble hit Connor’s ears; the android turned toward the sound with a smile. “Good morning, Hank.”

Hank grumbled again, dragging his feet as he shuffled through the room before rifling through the cabinets for a coffee mug. He poured the liquid into the mug and immediately put it to his lips, hissing in pain when the too-hot liquid touched his tongue.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve warned you. I made the coffee a little later than usual,” Connor apologized, his eyebrows furrowing, “Are you alright?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Hank managed, looking down at the steaming liquid before taking a sip again with a grimace.

“Hank, you’re going to hurt yourself if you drink the coffee at that temperature,” Connor warned.

“S’not the first time I burnt myself on coffee, Connor. Won’t be the last.” Hank filled his mouth with the liquid, guzzling down his first cup of coffee before pouring himself another. Connor frowned, his instincts told him to stop Hank from ingesting too much caffeine, but he knew better than to interrupt him at that point. “’Sides. It doesn’t even really hurt anymore.” Hank settled in the other chair at the table, frowning at his companion.

“What?” Connor tilted his head.

“What’re you dressed for? It’s five-thirty in the goddamn morning. On our day off. You could relax, you know.”

Connor shrugged, “I like routine.” It wasn’t like the android really slept anyway. He _could_ , but more often than not he chose not to.

“I’ve noticed,” Hank sipped at his coffee again, “So, why did you wait on the coffee this morning?”

“I don’t know. I supposed I got lost in my own thoughts.”

“About?” Hank prompted.

“This,” Connor gestured. “Deviancy. Emotions…. Your son.”

“Cole?” Hank frowned. “Why?”

Connor hedged, glancing away from the man he safely called a friend. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. Ever since I moved in.” Connor decided against it, “Hank, is there anything you wanted to know about me? Something you hadn’t felt comfortable asking before?” Connor said instead.

“Yeah, actually, there is.” Hank leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, “Do you…Can you taste anything?”

Connor quirked a brow. “Uh, yes.”

Hank went pale, “So all the times you stuck blood in your mouth… you could taste that shit? You’re fucking disgusting.”

Connor’s jaw dropped, “I can shut it _off_ , Hank. I don’t taste the things I analyze. That’d be revolting.”

Hank’s eyes widened. “So, if you can taste, can you eat?”

Connor shrugged, “I don’t have to, but I probably _could_. The goal was for me to be able to assimilate, and there would be situations where I would have to eat, so, I suppose I’m capable. I’ve never tried.”

Hank seemed fascinated with the topic; seeing him take interest in android’s made Connor happy, especially when he compared it to how Hank had spoken to him in the beginning. “Would you?”

“Would I eat something?” Connor considered his options, “I’d have to be certain that I _could_ first, but I suppose I’m not opposed to trying a few things. I want to see why you are so adamant to eat so much junk food,” he teased.

“Fuck off, Connor,” Hank said, his voice audibly affectionate. He paused for a beat before continuing, “You don’t feel pain, right?”

Connor nodded, “Right.”

“What does getting shot feel like to you? Anything?”

Connor tilted his head, the conversation not at all going where he thought it would. “Oh! Uh, I’m not sure. It’s been a while since I’ve been shot,” he joked.

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you’ve been less... idiotic during pursuits lately,” Hank shot back.

“I’ve been trying to save you from distress,” Connor answered immediately, “and…I would prefer not to get shot again.”

“So you _do_ remember?”

“Yes.” Connor leaned back in his chair, “It’s not…painful, but it isn’t pleasant.” Connor grimaced, idly touching his shoulder, the last thing he remembered taking a bullet. “We don’t scar, obviously, but it almost feels like it’s still there. It gets hot, much like a human, I suppose, and there’s usually some kind of electric current that vibrates the area, as components start to malfunction. It’s tingly, I guess.” Connor sent a sad excuse of a smile Hank’s way, “Sorry, it’s hard to explain. Anything else?”

Hank looked at the ceiling in contemplation, “What emotions have you figured out so far?”

Connor’s eyes widened, another unexpected question. To be fair, Connor wasn’t entirely sure _what_ Hank would’ve asked him, but these were not in the first hundred questions to come to mind. “Fear. Mostly fear,” Connor admitted. “I didn’t realize how many emotions stemmed from being afraid, but there are so many different types of fear. Fear of death, fear of failure, insecurity—“he stopped.

“What do you possibly have to be insecure about?” Hank inquired, setting his coffee cup on the table to prop his head on his hand. “You’re a literal supercomputer, Connor. You’re stronger, smarter, and faster than the entire precinct.” Hank narrowed his eyes, “It’s that fucker, Reed, isn’t it.”

“No! No,” Connor looked away, focusing on what he could see of Sumo on the floor in the other room. “I’ve learned that Detective Reed is never going to accept me, so there’s no point in internalizing his comments.”

“Still thinking about Kamski?” Hank guessed.

“N-No,” Connor stuttered. “I’ll admit our meeting with Kamski made me…uncomfortable, but it’s more hypothetical than that.”

Hank chuckled, “Dammit Connor, I thought I told you to stop running those programs. Just live in the moment, stop worrying about what could happen, especially when we’re at home, got it?” He lifted his head from his hand to point his finger at the android across from him. “You’re fine, I’m fine, and Sumo’s fine. And no one else matters.” The sentence sent a warm feeling through Connor’s chest, something he was still trying to get used to.       

“What do you think he would think? Of me, I mean,” Connor blurted.

Hank raised a brow, “Who?”

Connor swiped a quarter off the kitchen table—Hank must’ve emptied his pockets there the night before—and began rolling it across his fingers. What had started as a calibration exercise had quickly become a nervous habit once Connor was capable of feeling anxiety. “Cole.”

“You’re asking me if my son would like you?”

Connor nodded. Hank leaned back, glancing at the picture Connor had been looking at moments before. He idly rubbed at his chin, momentarily lost in thought.

“Well, shit,” Hank said finally, “I don’t know. Cole was friendly to everyone, but even before the accident I,” he paused, “I guess I was still harboring some negative feelings toward androids. Not animosity, per se, but ya’know, I wasn’t inviting any to live in my house,” he gestured to Connor with a weak laugh. “Some of those thoughts made it through to Cole. He wasn’t as kind to androids as he was to humans, but he was still respectful. If I had to guess, you woulda grown on him. He might not have liked you right away, but he woulda realized that you weren’t so bad.” Hank was smiling as he talked, “once you got past that, you woulda ended up being like a big brother to that kid, and he woulda followed you anywhere.” Connor could feel the smile growing on his face. “That’s my guess anyway.”

“oh. I’m glad you think so. I--”

A loud buzzing vibrated the table between them, the screen on Hank’s phone illuminated a bright blue: Capt. Fowler. “Son of a bitch,” Hank grabbed his phone, putting it up to his ear. “What.”

A message appeared in front of Connor’s vision. “I thought it was our day off,” Connor remarked.

“It’s our fucking day off,” Hank echoed Connor’s sentiment. He groaned, hanging up the phone, “Well. You were right to get dressed, Connor. We’ve gotta go. Feed Sumo while I get dressed,” Hank got up from the table, still grumbling, and made his way back to his room.

Connor did as he was told, laughing quietly to himself about the once again unpredictable, yet expected turn his life had taken. The smile continued to play on his lips as he watched Sumo eat, “Like a big brother, huh?”

Connor liked the sound of that.

 

Hank killed the engine, shutting off the slightly too-loud music and pushing the two into silence. Connor looked out the window, scanning for any immediate threat and coming up empty. “At least the sun is up,” Hank mumbled, his third cup of coffee being put up to his lips, the paper lip already stained brown under the lid, “these things are always worse in the dark.”

Connor nodded in agreement. Sunlight was extremely helpful, so as to avoid touching light switches. “And the sun’s only been up for an hour, so you should be safe, smell-wise.” It’s not that Connor _couldn’t_ smell, but, like taste, any sense he had could easily be deactivated if it hindered the investigation.

One of the perks of being an android.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Let’s go, Connor.” The two stepped quickly up to the house, a familiar officer met them at the door. Connor frowned, he hadn’t seen him this distraught before. “Chris!” Hank greeted, “What’ve we got?”

“It’s uh,” he gagged, “It’s bad. It’s a kid, Hank.”

Hank stiffened next to Connor. “I’ll go,” Connor volunteered. “Hank, just stay—”

“Like hell.” Hank pushed past Connor into the room in question, Connor hurrying behind him, the sound of Chris retching in the doorway behind him echoed through the house. The two police officers stationed outside the door moved quickly out of the way to let them pass.

The room was a bright pink, the floral curtains and heart-shaped area rug clearly belonging to a child. Connor wasted no time, scanning the room before laying eyes on the victim. A stain appeared in front of the area rug. It was blue. Thirium. “Hank, there’s Thirium on the floor. There’s a wounded android nearby.”

“Yeah, Connor. Here.” Hank waves him over to the opposite side of the bed. “Poor thing didn’t stand a chance.”

The small body was flat on its back on the floor, its black nightgown wet with its blood. Its limbs were folded neatly, as though someone had cared enough to make it look like the child was only sleeping.

Thirium stained the blond hair, covered her face, and streaked down her limbs. Connor knelt next to the small remains, analyzing the blood patterns on her clothes before making an assumption, “She was stabbed,” Connor decided. “Um, Hank, I’m going to..” he held his fingers up to his lips.

“Yep. Alright, I’ll be over here. Thanks for actually warning me this time. Don’t forget to shut off your ability to taste so I don’t have to imagine that.”

Connor snickered, “Already done.” He lightly brushed the girl’s nightgown, lifting his Thirium covered fingers to his lips. His tongue darted out to take the sample off his hand, the information quickly appearing in front of him.

_YK400  
Owned by:_ N/A

_Traces of human blood, Type A+, also found_

Well. That was unexpected.

“Hank. There’s human blood on her too.”

Hank came back over. “She fought back?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not on her hands, or anywhere else on her body. I took the sample from here.” He pointed to the pool of blue blood that stained the front of the nightgown. “Hang on.” A button was popped open on the front of the nightgown, there was a piece of paper, Connor hadn’t seen it through the Thirium. He pulled the paper from the girl’s chest and unfolded it.

_What makes a human?_

The note was clearly written by a human, the handwriting was _far_ too messy to belong to an android.

“What the hell?” Hank read the note over Connor’s shoulder. “The fuck does that mean?” He pointed to the bottom corner of the note. “Look, Connor. Blood. Red blood.” Sure enough, the bottom right corner of the note was stained red. The human blood and the Thirium blurred together in a thick purple-black line where they met.  

Connor turned his attention back to the child android, to the popped button on the nightgown. He started to unbutton the nightclothes, a tight feeling coiling in his stomach—dread, he realized. The second button down, he could see the incision. “The killer cut her open,” Connor relayed the information back to Hank, even though the older man was peering over his shoulder. The third button down, he could see a strange object forced into the girl’s chest. It wasn’t anything dangerous, according to his sensors, so he pressed on. He continued to unbutton the nightgown, his fingers drenched in Thirium.

“What the fuck,” Hank hissed. “Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

“I think it is,” Connor breathed out. He peeled back the artificial skin of the android, his hands entering the chest cavity. “Someone ripped out her Thirium pump. And….replaced it.” He grabbed the object that had been forced into the cavity, gently pulling it out. He glanced at his hand, beginning to see red splotches join the blue.

“Dear God.”

“Hank. We have a double homicide on our hands,” Connor frowned. “How else would the killer get ahold of one of these?” He looked up at his friend, his warm brown eyes wide. Cupped in his Thirium covered hands, was a blue-stained human heart.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! this chapter's kind of a rollercoaster, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. My summer job is kinda kicking my ass, so I haven't been in my best mindset. Sorry it took so long.

Hank stared down at his partner, stealing glances at the heart when he could stomach it. He ran a hand down his face, “Christ. It’s too early for this shit.” He glanced back to the door, where the two officers stood. “Hey! Where’d the coroner go?”

The female officer shrugged. “It was an android, he figured that was more your speed.”

“Unbe-fucking-lievable,” Hank snarled. “Well call him back! There are human remains here too!”

The male officer scoffed. “There’s only one body, and it’s a bot.” Connor cringed, his form was still blocked from their sight by the bed, but Hank saw the motion.

His eyes narrowed into slits as he glared at the officer. “ _She_ was an _android._ That doesn’t change the fact that she was a _fucking kid_. _”_ Hank reached down to pat Connor sympathetically on the shoulder.

“There’s a human heart,” Connor called out, standing to his feet. “And, seeing as the coroner failed to file a report on the crime scene, if he does not return, I have no choice but to report to Captain Fowler.”

“Okay, okay! Jesus Christ, I’ll call him!” She pulled her phone out, quickly typing a number and holding it up to her ear. “Damn android.”

Connor scowled. He tried not to let the remarks get to him, but sometimes they dug deep. And listening to a woman throw derogatory slurs at a murdered little girl frayed his nerves in a way no words had ever bothered him before. Just because the revolution had succeeded, didn’t mean androids were free to exist without prejudice. The very same people who accused androids of stealing their jobs now complained that androids were lazy and freeloading off ‘the system.’ Little did they know, the ‘system’ they were referring to didn’t actually cover androids. They couldn’t use it. There was no health insurance, android marriage was prohibited, and the idea of an android and a human in a relationship could lead to another homicide call for Connor and Hank to investigate. He sighed through his nose.

“He’s on his way Lieutenant,” she called over to Hank.

“Great, except Connor was talking to you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re a friend of Detective Reed, is that right?” Connor stood, having placed the heart gently back inside the android girl’s chest.

She blushed.

“Oh. That makes sense,” Hank scoffed. “You two are perfect together.”

The female officer sputtered.

“Anyway. Can you tell how old the heart is?” Hank turned the conversation back to Connor.

“It belonged to a child. There was no internal damage, no,” he paused, “I believe you’d say, ‘wear and tear’” He paused again, waiting for Hank’s nod of confirmation before continuing, “nothing. That, combined with the size, I’d guess the owner was no older than ten years old,” Connor frowned. “This killer attacked two children. One red-blooded, one blue-blooded. They’re obviously human, assuming they are the one to write the note. The question is why.”

“What’d they use? Did you find a weapon?”

“Not…yet.” Connor stood, glancing around the room to find clues to piece together. He walked to the wall on the opposite end of the room, scanning for any traces of Thirium. He glanced at the wall, framed pictures surrounded the wall clock, very similarly to the pictures in the kitchen of his and Hank’s home. In one picture, there was a little girl posing with the victim, the human’s red hair braided together with the android’s blond. The two girls were smiling as wide as possible, clearly closely bonded.

 _THE ANDROID WAS FRIENDS WITH A HUMAN._ The words appeared in front of his vision.

 “Do we know if this is the android girl’s house?”

Hank turned toward his partner, “You mean you can’t just scan the android?”

“I did,” Connor answered, his brow furrowed, “But now that androids are no longer _owned_ , the previous addresses of indentured androids had been deleted. They haven’t updated the systems yet because androids are still registering themselves. A child model wouldn’t know how to do that, so it’d be up to the parents.”

Hank sighed, “Nothing can be easy, can it?”

Connor turned to smile at his friend, “Not in our job, no.”

“Hey!” Hank barked at the two officers, who were still standing by the door, “Make yourselves useful and find out who lives here!” They nodded and disappeared into the house. “Assholes think they can just hang out and get paid for it.”

Connor turned back to the picture, scanning the face of the red-headed girl.

_Kemper, Natalia_

_Born: 12/13/28_

_Lived: 122 Apple St.—Detroit_

Connor frowned, they were on Sycamore. “This is the android’s house,” he confirmed. “It’s not hers,” he pointed to the girl in the picture.

“What’s the girl’s name?” Hank asked, “The redhead.”

“Natalia Kemper.”

“Shit,” Hank swore under his breath. “I know the Kempers. Nat was… she went to kindergarten with Cole.”

Connor’s brow furrowed again, “oh.”

“Please tell me when you scanned her that she…”

“According to our database, she has not been reported missing or dead. As far as we know, she’s still alive.”

“Oh thank God,” Hank breathed, studying the picture, “she’s a good kid. The Kempers are good people. Or at least, they used to be.” He chuckled, its tone sad. “Cole had a crush on her. Boy hadn’t ever seen a redhead before. He would play with her hair on the playground.” He took a steadying breath. “I’m glad she’s okay.”

Connor managed to stop his words before they left his mouth. The crime was still fresh. If Natalia disappeared from a friend’s house, she may not have been reported missing yet. But, the look on Hank’s face…Connor didn’t want to do that to him. He’d tell him later.

“We still have to tell her about her friend. Before the news does.” Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. “Man, I hate these. Especially with kids.” He sighed, “Okay. Let’s find the weapon and get out of here.”

“Right.” Connor stepped away from the pictures, scanning the room again. There were drips of Thirium throughout the room, but there was no sign of any kind of murder weapon. “Shit,” Connor hissed under his breath. “The weapon’s not here, Hank. They took it with them.”

“Well. That sucks,” Hank clapped a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Here’s the lazy piece of shit coroner now.” Hank turned his attention to the coroner, a miserable man who walked hunched over, a scowl deep set on his face. “Hey! You missed something, jackass. Don’t look at me like that, ‘s not my fault you decided not to do your damn job.” He turned back to Connor, “You know where the Kempers live now, right?”

Connor nodded, pulling Natalia’s information from his head. “Are we leaving now, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, his friend’s title leaving his lips with ease.

“I was thinking so, yeah. You done here?”

Connor glanced around, nothing was calling his attention. “I believe so.”

“Well, then let’s go.”

Hank shouldered the coroner as he walked by. Connor was more careful, sidestepping to avoid the other man. Somehow, his shoulder collided with the android’s, the force behind the motion knocking Connor off his feet. Connor managed to catch himself on the dresser in the room, the impact of his body hitting the furniture knocked a porcelain doll from its perch, its fragile body shattering at his feet.

“Connor! You alright, son?” Hank turned around to see Connor still gripping the lip of the dresser, his brown eyes focused on the pile of broken glass.

“Careful,” mocked the coroner, “you trip over yourself like that and you ruin the integrity of the crime scene. We’d have no choice but to give you a desk job.”

“I’m okay,” Connor answered Hank’s question, opting to ignore the other man’s remark. He bent down to pick up the shards of porcelain when a shiny black bead caught his attention. That definitely wasn’t visible before. He picked the bead up instead, holding it up to his face to analyze.

_Glass, wiring…_

_Camera._

_THE ANDROID WAS BEING WATCHED_

It was a camera. A tiny spycam had been placed within the porcelain doll to spy on the young android. “Hank. We’ve got an issue.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

Connor placed the camera in Hank’s hand. “That’s a camera. It was in the doll. Something tells me that it’s linked to the murder.”

“You think you can figure out what’s on it? What they saw?”

Connor made a noise of discontent, “It’s hard to say. If it has memory storage, maybe. But if it’s a live feed, there’s nothing on the camera that would help us.” Connor scowled, he opened the top drawer of the dresser, happy to see the drawer was actually filled with doll clothes. He plucked a small, doll-sized white sock and placed the camera in it. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be filmed anymore.” He handed the doll sock to the male officer by the door. “It may have a tracker in it. Since we aren’t returning to the precinct just yet, I believe it’s smarter to leave it with you.”

“You think it’s still live?” Hank asked.

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. It may have been damaged in the fall, but I’m certain it was still active when we arrived.”

“Meaning they know we know.”

“More than likely.” Hank’s face grew pale. Connor felt that tightness of dread in his stomach again at his companion’s expression. “What is it?”

“If Natalia’s involved in this, we need to talk to her. Now.” Hank turned dashing toward the car. “Connor! Let’s go!”

“Right!” Connor sprinted after him. The two men leapt into the car and sped down the street, surely breaking speed limits along the way.

 

The Kemper home was a two-story brick house with white window panes, a blue door, and a beautifully landscaped walkway, the gray stones separating the two rows of immaculately groomed purple flowers. A sleek, modern, self-driving car sat in the driveway, its frame painted a cherry red. “Self-driver, huh?” Hank remarked as they pulled up to the home, “Always knew they had more money than they knew what to do with.” He killed the engine, stepping out toward the door with a clearly faked bravado.

“Hank?” Connor reached out, grabbing the lieutenant’s shoulder to stop him. “Are you alright?”

Hank shook Connor’s hand off; Connor dropped his limb to his side, trying to ignore the sting that came with it. Emotions were not beneficial to him at the moment, now wasn’t the time to dwell on insecurity. “I’m fine, Connor. I just… it’s been a while since I’ve seen these people. I said some…” he sighed. “After Cole died, I, well, you saw me. You know. They tried to pick me back up again and I lashed out. Said some things I regret now. I thought that if we met again, the circumstances would’ve been…not this.”

Connor nodded, pretending he could understand where the older man was coming from. Hank barked out a bitter laugh. “It’s alright. That’s too convoluted for ya Connor. You’ll get there.” He paused, “Actually, I hope you don’t. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“Would you prefer that I knock on the door?” Connor tried. He didn’t like seeing Hank so distraught, especially because there was an ever-growing part of him that longed to understand what Hank was feeling. However, complex emotions still evaded him.

“I’m not a delicate flower, Connor. I’ve got it.” He ended the conversation there, but Connor watched as Hank fiddled with the collar of his shirt before he rang the doorbell, a nervous tick that only Connor seemed to be aware of.

There was a quiet shuffling in the house before the door opened. A tall, lithe man with cropped blond hair appeared on the other side, his hazel eyes clouded in confusion. “Hello?” He paused, recognition clearing his gaze. “Hank? Hank Anderson, is that you?”

“Hey Tobias,” Hank greeted uncomfortably. “I wish I had better circumstances for this, but,” he fished through his coat pocket before pulling out his badge, “I’m actually here for work.”

The smile fell off Tobias’s face. “Is something wrong?”

“Tobias, is your daughter home?”

“They both are, yes.” Connor could hear a woman’s voice call out from inside the house. “I’m working on it Aubrey, everything’s alright!” He called inside before turning his focus back to Hank. “Hank, what’s going on?”

“We need to talk to Natalia.”

“About what?”

Connor took this as his opportunity. “There was a homicide. The victim seemed to be a friend of your daughter,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“What?” Tobias balked. 

Hank sighed, smacking Connor on the shoulder. “Sorry about him, Tob, we’re still working on the empathy thing. This is my partner, Connor.”

“Hello,” Connor greeted.

“Now, where’s Nat?”

“I don’t know if I like the idea of the police talking to my daughter.” Tobias crossed his arms over his torso.

“Are you kidding me?” Hank snapped. “Look. Either I do this, or she can talk to a stranger. We’re not accusing her of _anything._ She’s not in any kind of trouble.”

“We only want to talk to her about the girl’s identity. That’s all,” Connor finished. This seemed to have calmed the man’s nerves, and he hurriedly waved the two inside. Connor immediately started scanning his surroundings, nothing seemed to be anything important to the investigation. He couldn’t help but notice after the fact that the house was decorated like a furniture store showroom. It was an impressive display, but there was no—Hank called it ‘homey-ness’—in the room.

“Natalia, honey! Can you come down for a second?” Tobias called up the stairs. A young voice answered, and within moments the young girl from the photograph appeared.

“Daddy, who are these…” she stepped extremely close to Hank, peering up at his face, “Cole’s dad?”

Hank smiled sadly at the girl, “It’s been awhile, huh Nat? You’ve gotten so tall since I last saw you.”

“I’m in fifth grade now.”

“Fifth grade?!” Hank exclaimed dramatically, “You’re practically a grownup now.” Natalia giggled; Connor couldn’t help but smile. The girl’s hazel eyes shifted from Hank to the android, her head tilting curiously.

“Are you Cole’s brother?” she asked innocently. Connor blinked, his eyes glancing from the girl’s face to Tobias, to Hank. Did she not notice he was an android? His shoulders dipped as he thought of a response. He looked back to Hank, his lips slightly parted as every word hid from his mind.

“Connor’s a friend, Natalia,” Hank answered. “Actually sweetie, we’re here to talk to you about a friend of yours. Can we go sit and talk a little?” Hank’s voice had a sweet tone to it that Connor wasn’t sure he had ever heard before. A hardened detective he may be, but Hank was also a father, at one point. That fact had never been more clear to the android.

“Yeah, okay,” Natalia agreed. “Which friend?”

“Well, that’s the problem Natalia. We don’t know the girl’s name. Do you have any pictures of you and your friends that we can see?”

“Uh-huh!” Natalia nodded quickly. “I have a bunch in my room! Come on! It’s upstairs!” She grabbed Hank’s hand and started pulling him up the stairs. Tobias looked on, before announcing he was going to explain the situation to his wife.

“No snooping around, got it? You’re here to get your information and that’s all.” Tobias warned, looking to Connor, not Hank.

“Of course,” Connor nodded, frowning once his back was turned to the man.

FATHER IS ANTI-ANDROID?

By the time Connor got to the bedroom, Hank and Natalia were already sitting on the edge of the bed with a screen in front of them, flipping through pictures. “Nat, we’re here about an android friend of yours. She has wavy blond hair. Do you know which one I’m talking about?”

Natalia’s eyes widened, glancing toward the stairs, “Daddy says I’m not allowed to be friends with androids.”

Hank frowned, “Why can’t you be friends with an android?”

“On account of the fact androids killed my best friend,” she looked at Hank, her eyes wide and suddenly teary. “They killed my best friend and broke his dad.”

It took Connor a second to realize she was talking about Hank.

“Oh Nat,” Hank pulled the girl into a side-hug. “Androids didn’t kill Cole. An android tried to _save_ Cole when a human couldn’t. And guess what? See Connor over there?” he pointed with hand that was draped across the girl’s shoulders, “he’s saved my life more times than I can count, and _he’s_ an android.” Hank smiled at Connor then; Connor awkwardly waved at the girl. “So if your dad doesn’t like that you’re friends with an android, I won’t tell him. But it’s okay if your friend is an android. Because my best friend is an android too.”

BEST FRIEND. Connor tried to blink the message away. Now wasn’t the time. To distract himself, he glanced around the room.

Oh no.

An identical porcelain doll to the one in the android’s room sat on the shelf, its dark brown eyes staring unblinking in the room. Unlike the android’s, which wore a pale dress, this doll was wearing a winter coat with a red scarf. “Where did you get this doll?” Connor asked suddenly.

“The store?” Natalia laughed. “It’s a collectable. My friend Cora has the same one.” Her voice dropped, “she’s the android I’m friends with. But when she has her hair down you don’t see the little light on her head,” she tapped her temple.

“What are Cora’s parents’ names, do you know?” Hank pressed.

“Ummm, Elizabeth and Samuel. Grasso.”

“Perfect. Thank you very much Natalia, you did such a good job.”

“Why are you asking about Cora?” she asked.

Connor interrupted, “Natalia, may I take the doll off the shelf to look at it?”

She shrugged, “Yeah, I don’t care. It kinda gives me the heebie-jeebies,” she looked back to Connor. “If you want to take it, I can tell my parents it broke. My mom just wanted me to keep it for some reason.”

Connor nodded. “I might just do that, thank you.” He grabbed the doll from the shelf and lightly flicked its head.

_Thunk._

As expected. There was something inside. Connor pulled the small scarf from the doll’s neck and fastened it securely over its eyes.

“What are you doing?” Natalia asked.

Connor smiled apologetically. A few options appeared in his mind on how to proceed; he quickly opted for sympathetic. “I understand what you mean, its eyes creep me out too.” Natalia nodded feverishly and turned her attention back to Hank. Connor nodded. That must’ve been the right choice.

“So why are you asking about Cora, Mr. Anderson?”

“Something happened at her house, we’re trying to figure out who did it.”

“What happened? Is Cora okay?” Natalia asked, panicked.

Hank sighed. “Your parents should be in here for this part. I won’t tell them that Cora’s an android, okay? I promise. But they should be here for this.”

Natalia’s shoulders dipped. “Okay,” she turned back to Connor. “Don’t let my parents see the doll. They’d kill me if they knew I let you have it.”

Connor nodded, considering his options again. Ultimately, he decided to strip himself of his jacket and hide the doll inside it. He nestled the concealed doll into his arms and looked to Hank and Natalia for confirmation.

“Good thinking, Connor,” Hank praised. Connor smiled.

 The three of them walked back down the staircase to the kitchen, where Tobias stood with his wife Aubrey, the couple speaking to one another in hushed whispers. Their conversation halted immediately when they caught Connor in their periphery, before long, the piercing blue gaze of Aubrey’s stare stayed fixed on the android, her pale lips flattened into a scowl. Connor tried to pay her no mind, instead he opted to scan her face to see if she had any priors.

Her identifying information appeared. Nothing else.

He glanced at Tobias. Nothing. Neither had had any run-ins with the law, not even a _parking ticket_. Connor felt himself frown. Humans are flawed, that’s what makes a human _human_. Surely the two in front of him had something to hide?

“Hey, Aubrey,” Hank greeted lamely.

“Hank,” she responded, her response curt.

“Look, I know our friendship ended on a rough note, but that’s not why I—”

“We were trying to pick you back up, Hank. Of course the loss of a child is a terrible tragedy, but you didn’t have to reject everyone around you.” Her voice was cold, devoid of any compassion. Connor felt a knot in his stomach. He glanced at Hank to reassure himself.

Hank’s face was completely devoid of life. The man Connor had considered his friend had completely deflated before him, and the shrunken, meek man that replaced him made Connor’s skin crawl. “Excuse me,” Connor interrupted. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t appreciate the way you’re talking to my partner.” Aubrey’s fierce gaze was trained on him again. She opened her mouth to speak, but Connor continued. “In fact, we are here on official business regarding your daughter, so I would appreciate it if you could keep to the task at hand, not stir up old memories,” Connor shot her a fake smile—the same obviously artificial smile he gave to Detective Reed when he ‘shot’ him with a finger gun. If she wanted to be cold and blunt, so could he.

“It’s alright, Connor. This happens sometimes,” Hank tried to waive it off, but Connor persisted.

“No, Lieutenant, it isn’t. We have a job to do. She’s trying to distract you with bad memories. That’s a form of manipulation. My only question is,” he turned his gaze to Aubrey, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes as he watched her expression change, “What are you trying to distract him from?”

“That’s absurd!” Aubrey crowed. “You damn robots think you know everything! Tobias! You didn’t tell me Hank brought a fucking _bot_ to talk to our _child!”_

Natalia flinched at the words. Connor held his ground, suppressing his immediate reaction.

“That’s enough!” Hank took a step forward. “I’m here on account of our history, Aubrey. I’m doing you a fucking favor.” He took another step, using his height to his advantage as he neared her. “I didn’t have to come here. But when I saw _your daughter’s face_ on a photo at a _fucking_ crime scene, I decided to let you know what was going on before the damn news did.” He yanked a chair from the kitchen table and practically threw it in Aubrey’s direction, the legs of the chair scraping horrendously across the floor as it moved. “Stop trying to make me feel like shit because of who I was after Cole. And for the love of God, _stop_ with all the fucking robot talk! Christ! I thought you guys would’ve _had_ an android, what’s with all the bullshit?!” Hank huffed. “Sit.”

Surprisingly, Aubrey did as she was told. Tobias quickly followed suit, followed by Hank and Natalia. Connor debated taking the fifth chair at the table, but after glancing at Aubrey again, opted to stand by the door instead, his jacket with the doll held tight in his grip.

Hank took a deep breath. “There was a homicide this morning. A little girl had been,” he glanced at Natalia, before reaching over and squeezing the girl’s hand in reassurance. “The victim was Cora Grasso.”

There was a moment of silence before chaos broke out. Natalia burst into tears, leaping from the table and, shockingly, hugging Connor as she wailed. Connor blinked before embracing the girl with one arm. She was looking for comfort in the closest thing she had to her friend. Another android.

Aubrey was crying loudly, her husband patting her shoulder as tears streamed down his face. Hank’s shoulders dipped. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you think it was her birth parents?” Aubrey suddenly spoke through her tears.

“Her…birth parents?”

“Cora was adopted. Lizzie, her mom, told me that she came from a _terrible_ home before she lived with the Grassos. Do you think they had something to do with this?” Connor gripped Natalia in his arm and  watched as Hank struggled to find the words. Natalia’s parents truly had no idea their daughter’s best friend had Thirium running through her veins.

“Do you think they’d try something?” Hank asked. Connor felt Natalia relax a little against his chest, her tears slowing as exhaustion took over.

“Oh, I’m sure of it!” Aubrey stood, slamming her hand on the table. “Lizzie was always looking over her shoulder.” Aubrey slowly sat back down. “Her parents didn’t want to give Cora up, I guess. Lizzie was always scared that they would take her daughter away from her.”

ANDROID’S FAMILY PRETENDED SHE WAS HUMAN?

…

ANDROID WAS STOLEN?

“We can’t say one way or the other,” Hank said, cooly masking his discomfort. “But this seems to be connected to another incident. Do you know her birth parents’ names?” Both Aubrey and Tobias shook their heads.  “When I saw your daughter’s picture on the wall, I had to check and make sure she was okay.” He glanced back to where Natalia was still hiding her face against Connor’s torso, “She was Cole’s best friend. Your daughter is one of the last reminders I have of my son.” He turned back to the girl’s parents, and leaned his elbows on the table. “I know I’ve been pretty shitty. But I’ve been getting my shit together, learning how to keep living. Learning how to find a new reason to keep going.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But—” Connor didn’t like the condescension he could hear in Aubrey’s tone.

“Do you know why Cora was home alone?” Connor interrupted. “She’s a younger girl, I didn’t think humans left their kids alone at that age.” Connor’s gaze burned into Aubrey’s. Something about the woman in front of him put him on edge, something more than just her stance on androids, but he couldn’t place it. “Especially if her adoptive mother was so worried about her safety, as you claim she was.”

Aubrey hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Her mom went on vacation. I don’t know where her dad was though,” Natalia whispered. “She was talking about having a little brother, but she never said what she meant. Cora’s an only child. Obviously.” Connor squeezed her shoulder to confirm that he heard her.

“Natalia, sweetie, get away from that thing. It’s not safe,” Aubrey suddenly called.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Hank slammed his hand on the table, making everyone else in the room, except Connor, jump. “Knock off that shit, Aubrey. You’re telling me you’ve _never_ had an android? With that self-driver in front of your house? I have a hard time believing that.”

“We never—”

“We did!” Natalia interrupted, pulling out of Connor’s grasp, but she stayed by his side. “Mom, stop lying! And stop pretending Renée didn’t live here!”

“Natalia! That’s enough!”

“She was a childcare android! She would pick me and my sister up from school!” Natalia continued. “Mom got her special ordered to look like us! She made her hide her LED and tell everyone she was my cousin!” Natalia was crying again, angry tears dribbling down her face. “My best friend is dead! Two of my best friends are dead! Can you _stop?!”_ Natalia stomped her foot, “Why does it matter what color someone’s blood is? Why do you care about that so much? Have you ever thought that maybe androids aren’t the monsters you think they are?” She took a deep breath, readying herself, “Have you ever thought that the real monster is _you?!”_ Her hands clamped over her mouth, as though she realized what it was that she said. She shrieked and charged up the stairs, slamming the door to her bedroom. Connor heard the click of the lock.

Aubrey stood, staring at the two officers. “We’re done here. You never should have come, Hank.”

“No, I’m glad I did. Natalia needed to know about her friend from someone she knew.” He stood, taking a few steps toward the woman, “And,” he said, leaning in until their noses were almost touching, “Now I know you’re hiding something.”

Tobias grabbed Hank’s shirt, tugging him away from his wife. “Get out!”

Connor rushed to defend his friend, but Hank stopped him, “Fine, Tobias. We’re going. Come on. Connor. We’ve got what we needed, let’s go.”

Connor blinked, glancing up the stairs to look at the closed door of Natalia’s room. He hoped she’d be alright, but there was nothing more he could do for her now. He took his partner’s advice and headed for the door.

Tobias followed them out, slamming the door for good measure. Once again, Connor heard a lock click. They must have installed the old-fashioned latch lock on top of the digital one, he noted.

“Well that was a shitshow,” Hank commented as he stared at the shut door.

“Something bothered me about that ordeal, Hank.” Connor’s brows furrowed.

“Other than the obvious?” Connor nodded, “What?”

“Tobias said that both of his daughters were home. The way Natalia spoke, the sister was younger, am I wrong?”

Hank scratched his chin as he thought, “I don’t remember her having a sibling when she was in kindergarten, so if she does have a sibling, they’d be younger, yeah.”

Connor nodded, “She said ‘me and my sister,’ usually if the sibling is older, the order would be switched, she would’ve said ‘my sister and me.’”

“Huh.” Hank narrowed his eyes. He stepped off the porch and turned to look back at Connor. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Where was she? Surely she would’ve investigated the commotion when everyone started yelling.”

Hank’s eyes widened. “You’re absolutely right. If she was home, she would’ve looked into the kitchen. So either Tobias lied about her being home…”

“…or he doesn’t know she’s gone.”

“Shit,” Hank swore. “It only gets worse from here, doesn’t it.”

Connor nodded. If Hank was thinking what Connor was thinking… “That heart…”

“…might be Nat’s sister,” Hank finished the thought, his face grim. “Our killer nabbed the wrong Kemper.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read my Hamilton fic, you know I have a habit of making at least one OC a redhead. Don't ask me why, I have no idea.
> 
>  EDIT (Nov.15, 2018) :I was rereading this to get back into writing it and noticed a bunch of grammar errors. I do most of my writing early in the morning, and always get too excited to post a new chapter to proofread. Sorry about that. I've fixed the ones I noticed.
> 
> Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! No more triggers than what is normal for this fic.  
> (This is also totally unedited. Sorry if there are little errors that I didn't catch)

After retreating to the car, and tucking the blindfolded doll in the glove compartment of the car, Connor quickly filed the information to the police department, using his previous ability to communicate with Cyberlife as an immediate line to Captain Fowler. It wasn’t long before he got his response.

_> >Good job. Now, go back to your day off. Tell Hank not to get too drunk tonight. We need him sober when he comes to work at 6:00 sharp._

Connor smirked at the message. He knew as well as he was certain Capt. Fowler did that Hank wasn’t stepping near the precinct until 7:30 at the earliest. Connor could maybe convince him to go at 7:00, but that was surely wishful thinking. “We’ve been released for our duty for the day, Hank. We can return home, if you want.”

Hank shook his head. “Nah, I need to think,” a sad look appeared on the lieutenant’s face, “Thinking at home doesn’t do me any good.”

Connor frowned. He was aware that Hank suffered with depressive episodes as a result of his son’s death, but he had thought that the suicidal ideation had decreased since he had moved into Hank’s home. “Well, why don’t you get something to eat? It’s currently 1:30 pm, which is half an hour later than your ideal lunch time.”

Hank shot him a look, his lips betraying him as they curled into a small smile. He reached over and grabbed Connor’s shoulder, shaking the android affectionately. “How ‘bout you let _me_ worry about myself, alright son?”

Connor smirked, “I would if you would take your needs seriously. But as long as I’ve known you, I’ve noticed you have a habit of… ‘forgetting’ to eat.”

“Yeah, ya got me.” Hank shook his head. “Alright, fine. Lunch. You gonna eat too?”

Connor’s eyes widened. “You’re referring to our conversation from this morning, right?” He flattened his mouth into a straight line, the LED on his head blinking yellow as he considered his options. “I’ve never actually _tried_ eating, so I’m unsure if I’m…comfortable with the concept.” Hank looked disappointed; Connor jumped to correct his mistake, “I’d be willing to try something though. Not a whole meal, but I’m not opposed to a taste.”

Hank smiled, making Connor smile in response.

“Then, I guess it’s time to make you understand why I eat what I eat.” Hank took a turn, forcing the car to move in the other direction.

“What?”

“You’ll see, Connor.” Hank was chuckling to himself. For what was normally a comforting sound to the android, Connor thought for sure he felt his thirium pump stop as dread filled him.

“Here.” Hank passed his meal across the table to the android. Connor stared down in distaste at the pile of junk food in front of him.  The bun of the burger was itself glistening with grease, the fries on its left side were covered in so much salt that Connor could see it without analyzing them. He scrunched his face in uncertainty. “What?” Hank questioned.

“Well,” Connor straightened his tie out of reflex, “I’m not sure what food does to my body. And,” he paused, leaning forward to look at Hank, something akin to desperation in his gaze, “Hank, the first time I saw you eat this I thought you were trying to kill yourself.”

“Are you telling me you’re scared to eat a hamburger?” Hank was laughing at him.

Connor pouted. “Not scared,” he defended himself. “I’m simply…uncertain.” Hank only laughed harder.

“Connor, I’m not trying to kill you. One bite. Not even a big one,” Hank coaxed. Connor flicked his eyes between the burger and Hank’s face. Hank huffed through his nose, “Wait, Connor. Have you really never done this? Ever?”

Connor shook his head. “I’ve never felt the need. The only time I’ve been undercover, I was posing as a deviant in my search for Jericho.” He chuckled, “Or, I suppose, I just took off my uniform.” He had already been deviating before the Jericho mission anyhow, it was only a matter of time before he became a deviant. Markus and the other androids of Jericho had only expedited the process.

“But you _can_ shut off your analyzing thing to taste things, right?”

“Yes. I just never have.”

Hank leaned on the table, “Weren’t you curious?”

“Curiosity of that kind is a fairly new sensation, Hank. So, no.” He reached up to his LED and pressed his fingers into his temple. He didn’t actually have to do that to deactivate the analyzer in his mouth, but it simplified the process that way.  “Although I suppose now, I’m curious to see why you are so determined to go against my advice.”

“Good. Eat,” Hank pushed the food toward the android again. “If the burger’s too much for a first taste, grab a fry,” he offered. “It’s a simpler flavor, I guess a burger’s probably a pretty… complex, thing to eat if you’ve never tasted anything before.” Hank made a noise of confusion, “Can’t say this was ever something I had to consider before.”

Connor didn’t know how to respond. Instead, he opted to take Hank’s advice, reaching for a fry. He tried not to think about the absurd amount of salt on the rectangular piece of potato in his hand and brought it to his lips. He pushed away the immediate screen of nutrition facts that appeared in his vision, telling him that what he was about to consume was not something a person should be eating as regularly as Hank does. Of course, should he be as worried as he is? After all, he was capable of eating, and it wasn’t as though he had to protect his body from malnutrition. It’s very possible that nothing would happen. It’s also possible that he wouldn’t actually _taste_ anything, and that the ability to shut off his analysis was simply just to keep him from being distracted during an investigation. He steeled himself, ignoring Hank’s laughter at his expense, and took a bite.

“Huh.” Connor couldn’t think of another thing to say.   

“So? What do you taste?” Hank grabbed a fry and popped it into his mouth without any of the trepidation that Connor had had.

“It tastes…” Connor searched for the words, “Bright,” he decided.

“Bright?” Hank repeated.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the proper vocabulary to describe what I’m experiencing,” Connor relented.  “I’m assuming it’s the salt I’m tasting, but there’s a…” he paused, “soft taste in the background, that I’d assume to be the potato.”

“Hank scrunched up his face, “So… it’s good?”

Connor tilted his head, “Yes. I suppose it is.”

“Well, see? I told you.”

Connor rolled his eyes.

Hank’s laughter only continued, coloring his words as he tried to speak in between bursts. “Now that you know I’m not trying to kill you, try the burger,” he prompted, “so I can eat it before it gets cold.”

Connor nodded, and reached down to pick up the pile of meat and bread in front of him, his eyebrows once again furrowed in concentration. He rotated the burger in his hand, scowling in disdain as the grease began to drip down his wrist. “How do you… Where…?” He glanced at Hank, the question clear.

It was Hank’s turn to roll his eyes. “Just bite it! My god Connor. It’s not some complicated voodoo shit, it’s a goddamn burger.”

“Alright.” Connor bit down.

His eyes shot open wide as countless flavors danced across his tongue. Too much information flooded his mind at once, and Connor found himself struggling to keep up. He forced himself to swallow the food in his mouth, hoping to clear his mind of the overload. It helped, but many of the flavors still lingered. He looked to Hank, pushing the plate away from him quickly. Hank was frowning, his brows drawn together. Concern.

“Connor…? Are you okay?” Hank asked tentatively.

Connor blinked a few times before he could answer, “…yes. I think so.”

“Too much?”

“Yes, I think so.” Connor repeated. “How do you distinguish all the different components in that?” Connor asked, “How doesn’t it overwhelm you?”

“Practice,” Hank answered.

Connor frowned. “I’m not sure I want to do that.” He paused, angling his head, “I’m wondering if there’s even a point to it. After all, the flavors I’m experiencing could be completely different than the ones you experience. I may never be able to comprehend complex tastes.”

“Does that bother you?”

“A little,” Connor admitted. “I never thought there’d...” he paused, before deciding against it. “Never mind. You wanted to discuss the case, correct?”

“Hold up on that.” Hank bit into his burger, chewing a bit, but probably not nearly enough before swallowing, “What were you going to say? You never thought there’d…what?”

Connor looked down at the table, the tingling in his face telling him he was embarrassed. He briefly wondered if he could blush. He’s never managed to embarrass himself in front of a mirror so he could see, but it was a feature he loved about humans.

“Connor?”

“I never thought there’d be something I’d feel… envious of,” Connor finished. “I find myself feeling…frustrated that there are things I don’t understand. I was programmed to adapt to human unpredictability, and I… find myself not understanding concepts that come so naturally to your kind. Things like taste, emotion…” Connor stopped himself. “And now I’m rambling, which is something I’m not supposed to do—”

“Connor, you’re fine.” Hank reached over and patted his shoulder. “All the things you’re not understanding are still new for you. You’re looking at things from…” Hank flailed his hand in the air as he debated his word choice, “from outside your programming. You’ll get there. Don’t worry so much.”

Connor felt his lips curl up on their own accord.

“Plus it makes me feel better that you think we’re better than you at something,” Hank teased.

“Okay, okay,” Connor relented, “Anyway, it’s interesting that the Kemper’s had an android, isn’t it? To have her pretend to be a human, and a relative, at that. I didn’t know Cyberlife did…custom builds.” The words felt wrong on Connor’s tongue.

“Neither did I,” Hank commented. “I wonder if I met her. The android,” Hank tried to think back, Connor watched as Hank’s eyes flickered back and forth as he scanned his own memory. “’S a shame we didn’t get to talk to Nat more. She dropped that bomb on us right before her folks kicked us out.”

“I’m… sorry about that, Hank,” Connor murmured, “I know they were your friends at one point, and it was your association with me that—”

“Enough of that self-loathing bullshit, Connor,” Hank snapped, “You’ve been acting weird lately. You’re letting that anti-droid talk get to you, aren’t you?”

“I… I want to say no.”

“But you’d be lying.”

Connor nodded reluctantly. “Of course the protestors don’t… I can ignore them. But,” Connor sighed, “The officer at the crime scene… the way she talked about the little girl. And then the Kempers. Prior to my deviancy, I could just deactivate thoughts that weren’t relevant to the mission, but now, it’s…” he paused again.

“Connor, that cop’s an idiot. She’s so far up Reed’s ass she can taste what he had for breakfast.”

Connor scrunched up his face.

“Gross analogy, but stick with me.” Hank shot him a look, “And the Kempers? Fuck ‘em. They just don’t understand, but they will.” He smiled, “Lord knows I didn’t until you came around.” He grabbed a couple fries and popped them in his mouth. “Oh hey, back to the case. That creepy-ass doll. Where’d you put it?”

“It’s in the car. We need to get that back to the precinct before we can go home.” Connor frowned, “That opens up a new question. Those dolls, do they _all_ have cameras in them?”

“Hell if I know,” Hank remarked, “You can still look shit up online, right?”

Connor quirked a brow, “Obviously. My brain is a computer, Hank.”

“Hey, I don’t know what Cyberlife took away from you when you told them to fuck off.” Connor snickered at the simulation that played in his head. Would he have just said the words, or would he have actually given Amanda the finger? He had not flipped anyone off yet. If he was being honest, he could count the number of times he’s used profanity on one hand.

Huh. Maybe he’d have to test some out. He’d have to track down Detective Reed.

Right. The case. Connor closed his eyes, searching through for the aforementioned doll. “The doll’s simply called ‘Miranda’—but it’s called ‘Mommy’s little Watchman’ by many women on social media.”

“That’s fucked.”

“Yes. That’s a good word for it.” Connor remarked, scrolling through the comments on the blogs. “They’re being praised as a good replacement for—” Connor opened his eyes. ”Childcare Androids.”

“That’s not how they worded it, was it.”

“No.”

“Christ Almighty. Alright, what does it do?”

“It’s essentially what they used to call a ‘Nanny Cam,’ the feed is sent to the parents, so they can constantly see what their child is doing.”

“Ugh,” Hank groaned. “Any audio feeds?”

Connor shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“Well, at least there’s that.”

“Yes. A mass-produced security camera. There could be countless cameras in homes right now. We can’t know how many there are.”

“Or who’s watching them.”

“Exactly.”

“Either way,” Hank grabbed the last fry from his plate and got up to throw it away. “We need to get that creepy ass thing out of my car.”

“Agreed.” Connor looked back through the blog posts, before scanning over the purchase screen. The interface wasn’t compatible with his eyes, making him wonder if the website was built specifically to deter androids. “The…ugh.” Connor raked his hand down his face. “Hank, can you pull up the purchase screen on your phone? It, uh.” A sharp electrical impulse zapped across his forehead, the purchase screen disappearing from his view. ”Ow.”

“Ow?” Hank pressed, pulling out his phone. “I thought you couldn’t feel pain.”

“Normally, I can’t.” Connor scrunched up his face, the electrical tingles still bouncing around. “It seems they formatted the screen so I…” he paused. “It looks like whoever makes these dolls doesn’t want androids knowing about them.”

“And yet, an android girl had one.”

“Yes, an android that was pretending to be human,” Connor clarified.

“Talking to Cora’s parents is probably the next step.”

Connor nodded. “I’d agree. Tomorrow. Today was our day off, Hank,” he reminded the lieutenant.

Hank grumbled, “I know, I know. But, as much as I hate that the Kempers are tied up in this, I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t our most interesting case in a while.” 

Connor watched Hank’s face as the older man spoke. There was a light in his eyes, an excitement in his features that Connor wasn’t sure he had ever seen before. He smiled at his friend. Maybe he was seeing a little of what Hank used to be.

“Let’s head back to the precinct to drop off that creepy-ass doll, and then we’ll head home. The others can handle the paperwork.”

Connor chuckled involuntarily, another thing that seemed to be happening more frequently as of late, “You don’t do the paperwork anyway.”

Hank flipped him off. Connor only laughed louder. “I was actually talking about you, asshole.”

“I would think so. When was the last time you did the write-up on a case?” Connor asked, genuine curiosity colored his teasing words.

Hank opened his mouth to retort, then shut it again. “Just get in the car, Connor.”

“So, before me?” Connor asked.

Hank only nodded, a frown on his features.

“That’s alright, lieutenant. I only have to think of the words, you require a few extra steps,” he said with a wink, laughing as he dodged the shove headed his way.

“Connor, are you alright?” Hank asked as he drove to the precinct, stealing glances at his android companion.

“I’m okay,” Connor nodded, tilting his head. “Why?”

“You’re blinking a lot,” Hank explained, “You’re not writing a report, are you?”

“No,” Connor relented. “I’m running a diagnostic. The Miranda website…” he paused, “delivered quite a shock. I’m just making sure—”

“—making sure you’re okay,” Hank finished.

“I seem to be fine. It just…surprised me that it _hurt.”_ Connor rubbed at his left temple. “I’ve never had anything actually… hurt.” Connor paused, a new connection appearing in his mind. “Whoever made the Miranda site, they made it so androids can’t see it. The only way they could have done that is if they know how we work.”

_MIRANDA CREATOR AN ANDROID?_

_MIRANDA CREATOR WORKED FOR CYBERLIFE?_

Connor blinked as both options appeared simultaneously.

“You think Kamski would know?”

Connor frowned, thinking back to the last time he and Hank had tried to get information from Kamski. “It’s possible. But for a large period of time, Kamski had stepped away from Cyberlife. He only just got reinstated as the head of the company.”

That had been a transition Detroit had not been ready for. Elijah Kamski had reappeared, assuring the public that he had everything under control, even though he had lied to the entire world about the capability of deviance in his creations. With the liberation of androids, Kamski flipped the company on its head, turning it into something akin to an android hospital.  And with the spike in anti-android violence, it couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.

“We could talk to him again,” Connor suggested.

“I’d rather not if we don’t have to though,” Hank replied. “I still don’t trust his manbun-wearing ass.”

“I…could ask Chloe,” Connor suggested instead.

“Do any of them still live with him?”

“Most of them left, changed their names, but there is at least one working as his secretary.” The memory of Chloe flashed through his mind, the blond android on her knees, staring blankly ahead as Connor pointed a gun to her head. Realizing he couldn’t shoot her. When he realized he thought she was innocent, that it wasn’t _fair_ to hurt her for something unrelated. When he realized that he thought—no, he _knew_ —that she was _alive._ It wasn’t long after the revolution succeeded that he received a message from that Chloe, thanking him for seeing her as alive before she did and sparing her life. The two continued to send messages back and forth since then; Connor considered her a friend now.

“It’s not the one he made you…” Hank started, making a finger gun with one hand.

“Believe it or not, yes.”

“Why the fuck—“he paused, stopping the car in front of the precinct.

“She’s told me that he claims he knew I wasn’t going to shoot her,” Connor stated, “even before I did.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know. But if the thought brings comfort to her, then I won’t tell her otherwise.”

Hank smiled, “you’re really learning fast, Connor.” He got out of the car before Connor could respond. “Grab that fucking stalker doll, let’s get this over with.”

Connor opened the glove compartment of the car, its scarf still securely tied round its eyes. “Mommy’s little watchman,” Connor muttered. “A replacement to robo-nannies. A way to watch. A way to be sure your children weren’t associating with fake children.” Connor said aloud the blog posts he remembered.

Fake children.

Fake.

“Connor!” Hank called from the front door of the building.

“Sorry Lieutenant!” he replied, hurrying to follow with the doll in his grasp.

Once inside, Hank was quick to pass the doll off to the first officer he saw, who just so happened to be the woman from the original crime scene. “Here. Evidence.”

“Evidence for what? Where did you go? Do you know how much—” she started, her hands on her hips.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Hank said blankly. “Just do your job. Connor can send the identifiers to evidence later.”

“Done,” Connor chirped a beat later.

“There see? He already did. Which means we’re done here. Let’s go.”

“Well, well, well,” came another all-too-familiar voice, “If it isn’t the alky and the talking toaster! Passing off your work to somebody else again, huh Hank?”

Connor narrowed his eyes. “Detective Reed, I have requested on multiple occasions that you stop calling me that.”

“You’re right, microwave. You did,” Reed smirked, “I’ll have to come up with some new ones.”

“Hey, douchebag!” Hank barked, “That’s enough.”

“What’s the matter, Hank?” Reed sneered, “Worried I’m hurting your little robo-kid’s feelings? We all know you’re just replacing your son with a fucking machine—“the female officer gasped, smacking Reed’s arm.

Connor’s eyes widened. He risked a glance at Hank.

Hank was frozen, his eyes glazed and distant. Connor watched as Hank’s shoulders dipped, making the man appear to shrink in front of them. He felt his thirium pump begin to accelerate. He waited for Hank to get angry, to give Detective Reed the backlash he deserved. Hank said nothing, it was as though his soul had left his body behind, an empty shell remaining.

“Hey, Gav, maybe you went a little too far?” the female officer whispered.

Connor felt an intense heat curl in his stomach. ”Maybe?” Connor echoed in disbelief. “ _Maybe_ he went too far?!” Connor heard his voice rise in volume and drop in pitch as the intense emotion he quickly acknowledged to be anger overpowered him. “Detective Reed. The lack of empathy you show is so extreme I find myself wondering if you feel anything at all. What you just did was…” Connor smirked to himself as he spit out the word, “inhuman.” Connor, of course, knew that the word ‘inhumane’ functioned better grammatically, but the way Gavin stiffened at the word was too perfect to refuse. He took a step closer to the man. “And I don’t know a single deviated android who would _dare_ use the deceased as fodder for a taunt as you have just done.” He took another step toward the other detective, leaning in to stare directly into Gavin’s eyes. Gavin puffed out his chest, but his eyes flickered from side to side, revealing the nervousness beginning to appear. “How does it feel to be _less human than a fucking machine?_ ” Connor practically snarled.

Gavin blinked, staring at Connor, open-mouthed as he searched for the retort that wouldn’t come.

Connor grabbed Hank’s shoulder and led him back to the door, Hank shuffling beside him as his thoughts continued to plague him. The android turned back to Gavin as the door slid open, his eyes narrowing at the man. He lifted the hand that wasn’t leading Hank in the air and folded every finger but one. A few observing officers stared at the scene, shocked by the android’s outburst.

As the door slid behind them, Connor turned his full attention to Hank. “Hank, are you alright?” Connor scanned the older man’s face, looking for any sign of life in his gaze. “I’ll drive, if you want.”

Hank shook his head.

“Do you want to go home?”

Hank nodded.

“Alright, we can go home,” Connor squeezed Hank’s shoulder.

Hank shook off the android’s hand, “I’m…uh. I’ll be alright Connor. I just….” he dragged a tired hand down his face, “I didn’t expect that low of a blow. Reed really is a fuckface.” He paused, finally glancing up to make eye contact before his eyes darted away again. “You responded when I couldn’t so, yeah. You know.”

“You’re welcome,” Connor smiled, knowing that Hank had an aversion to admitting he needed help. That ‘so, you know,’ was Hank’s ‘thank you.’

Hank nodded, and the two headed back toward the car. Connor said nothing when Hank started blasting his music at a level that was borderline damaging to his hearing. Connor knew that it made Hank feel better, even if the vibrations rattled within Connor’s head. So the health warning’s flashing in Connor’s vision would have to wait. Hank was taking care of himself, even if it was in a way that Connor couldn’t understand yet.

 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to try to break up the angst with some domestic scenes, if I did nothing but write dark stuff, it wouldn't be as fun for me, you know?
> 
> Sorry if I'm a little rusty. I don't really get to write too much anymore. Grad school's a bitch, my friends.
> 
> (EDIT) The name of the doll is intentional. For those of you who don't know, I'm a Spanish major. I chose the name 'Miranda' to play on the gerund of the Spanish verb 'mirar' ('mirando') which literally means "watching." Fun facts.
> 
> Until next time!  
> ~Chickadee

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to come over to sewing-and-showtunes.tumblr.com to come talk/yell at me. I'm always down to talk about my boy, Connor.
> 
> Comments/Kudos are greatly appreciated! <3 Until next time!  
> ~Chickadee


End file.
